


Always Yours

by indyana



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Cross-Posted on deviantArt, Crows, Familiars, Fantasy, Gay Character, Love, M/M, Magic, Occult, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Originally Posted on deviantART, Urban Fantasy, Witches, Wizards, deviantART
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indyana/pseuds/indyana
Summary: A wizard and the crow who loves him
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	Always Yours

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this and posted on DeviantArt as a background piece for some cyberpet candidate characters (99% of my writing... lol), but it stands alone and doesn't require any weird adoptable knowledge. Generally fannish of urban fantasy environments...? ^_^;
> 
> Rating Details: Suggestive dialogue, sexual situations, language, gore  
> Trigger Warnings: Character death, blood
> 
> Link to DeviantArt cross-post: https://www.deviantart.com/indyana/art/Always-Yours-867314751

Highflyer watched from the top of a nearby light pole as the human refilled the bird feeders. The man came to the park daily except in the most inclement of weather. Sturdy, with a thick fringe of hair the color of damp earth, he was the son of the green witch who had tended the feeders before him, according to Highflyer’s mother, and now followed the path of a wizard. The crow had known him since he fledged, and over five seasons, his fascination with the human had grown from passing curiosity to unwavering fixation.

Fairbeak, the last of Highflyer’s clutch mates remaining with him in their parents’ territory, swooped overhead, letting out a few short croaks of greeting as she turned and flapped down to join him, jostling him until they could make room for two on the sloped lamphead.

 _“You are certain of this then, Highflyer?”_ she asked, inclining her sleek head toward the wizard raking up fallen husks.

_“I go to the witch tonight, when the full moon gives her power.”_

Fairbeak drew her head back, her feathers pressed flat in displeasure.

_“Sister, I do not ask for your approval, but at least promise me that you will not interfere.”_

Fairbeak clicked her beak and shook her head. _“I am not fool enough to meddle in matters of the heart. Do what you must, brother. Whatever the end result, I will stand by you.”_

Her support warmed him, even as the cold winter wind kicked up and sank its teeth into their feathers. Highflyer watched as the man completed his work and wheeled his cart away and up the path, out of sight. He sat with his sister, puffed against the cold, until their parents crowed in the distance, calling in the flock to forage before dark.

When it came time to roost that evening, Highflyer was careful to perch himself on the outer edges of the group, a few branches down from his parents and younger siblings. He waited for the moon to rise above the trees and give him light before quietly hopping away and taking wing. Strong, purposeful flaps brought him to the cache he had gathered for the witch, and he rose again under its weight with some difficulty. He left the bounds of the city park, winging across multistory buildings and streets lit up and noisy despite the darkness pressing in from above. By the time he reached the apartment building where the witch lived, his shoulders ached, and he was glad to rest the small satchel on the windowsill as he pecked at the glass.

The witch approached and raised it, and Highflyer flapped and scrambled to keep his balance while grasping his cargo. She was an older human, with thick, gray hair bundled at the nape of her neck and deep creases around her dark eyes. Beads of jade and quartz, pearls, silver chains, and cabochons of moonstone glimmered around her neck, and tonight, she wore a wrap of white and silver cloth.

“Good evening, crow. Let’s see what you’ve brought for payment, shall we?”

Highflyer hopped inside and followed her, awkwardly fluttering across the carpet to the low table where she had arranged her altar. Silver candles flickered around the surface of a smooth, polished mirror. The witch seated herself in a cluster of pillows on one side, and Highflyer rose onto the table, dumping the bag toward her. She began sorting its contents. Skulls of tiny animals, large balls of lichen, an owl pellet, and some of the best feathers from his last molt were drawn onto the table, then several colorful rocks and bright bits of plastic. Last were his finest additions, several coins and crumpled human dollars, and a delicate bracelet.

The moon witch surveyed the collection with a frown. “It’s not enough, crow. This won’t even cover the supplies for the spell. You’ll have to find something more interesting and try again the next full moon.”

Highflyer croaked and ducked his head in despair. How was a crow to know what was valuable to a witch?

There was a chorus of flapping wings, and both he and the witch looked up in alarm as several dark shapes cluttered the open window. As they came into the candlelight, Highflyer was surprised to recognize his family, including parents, Fairbeak, and several of his siblings. Each one flitted forward in turn, dropping items from their beaks onto the pile. A gold ring, a few more fine crow feathers, an owl feather, a sprig of dried elderberry, and a small toy car were added. Highflyer’s mother stepped forward last, adding a single, pure white feather to the collection. She had grown it in last year after an injury, and it had recently molted out of season to make room for a healthy replacement.

The moon witch reached down to sift over the items, picking up the gold ring and the white feathers last and admiring them. “This is more like it… Your friends have brought enough to make payment. Be warned, the full moon gives my spell extra power, but it will only carry through the next moon after. If you cannot win your human’s love by the night the last sliver of the Wolf Moon fades, your transformations will end. Do you understand?”

_“Yes. Your friend will help me?”_

The witch nodded. “Ms. Graves will get you situated at the café, which should bring you into contact with your beloved. After that, it’s up to you, crow.”

Highflyer hoped this would be enough. At the very least, he would finally know whether there was reason to hope. He bowed his head in agreement, and while his family watched, the moon witch prepared her spell.

* * *

As soon as Sage Evans spotted the Barrier Café’s newest busboy, he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. He was all sorts of intense looking… broad shoulders, well defined features, raven black hair and eyes dark enough to match. Sage watched as he piled plates into a bin, bare forearms flexing.

“ _Sage_. Hello...”

Sage turned back to the group at the table. Uriel sat across from him, looking annoyed.

“Man has a body like a damn ice skater,” Sage muttered.

Next to him, Leslie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in agreement. “ _Schwing._ ”

“Can you two at least _try_ to pay attention?” Uriel sighed, rubbing hands across his dark face before his brown eyes swept over then in disapproval. He was the oldest of their little quartet and never seemed to forget it.

Leslie rolled her eyes and shook her head, making her hair swish back and forth in a smooth curtain. “Uriel, there’s always going to be the next big thing to fight over with the Phoenixes. Unlike you, some of us like stopping to smell the roses once in a while.”

“Exactly,” Sage agreed, raising a finger. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up old as Julius Blackman and _still_ not have gotten laid in the last century.”

Uriel shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how you ever made it through your year of celibacy as an initiate.” He looked over to Sam to get some backup, but the other man was busy shoveling in his reuben and just raised an eyebrow.

Leslie snorted, nearly choking on her iced tea. “You actually kept that vow?”

“What? Of course I did.” Uriel glanced between her and Sage. “You mean you _didn’t_?” He turned to Sam again, bewildered.

Sam shrugged, looking down at him. “I made it seven months…”

Leslie let out a breathy laugh, and Sage grinned at his friends.

Collectively, they were known as the Junior Blackmans, not to be confused with the actual Blackmans, who had all apprenticed under Julius Blackman himself in the distant years past.

Uriel Hobbs was the oldest by several years. He was taller than Sage, with dark skin and eyes. His hair, outside the shaved patterns on the sides of his head, was captured in a thick bundle of tiny braids that cascaded down his back. Always the polished professional in business attire, he cut an imposing figure.

Next to him, Sam Sampson, whose parents obviously had a better sense of humor than their son, was a towering presence. The man was one-hundred percent viking throwback—long, tostled blond hair and icy gray eyes. He and Sage hadn’t quite gotten along at first. Sam had a temper, and Sage liked to wind people up now and then for a bit of exercise. But what started as a grudging respect for one another’s abilities ended up mellowing out into friendship as the years passed.

Leslie Adams and Sage were the babies of the group. They’d been initiated the same year, and their masters were brothers. They’d been thick as thieves ever since. Leslie was reed thin and fair, all freckled porcelain skin and ginger hair, with pale hazel eyes. Next to her, Sage was almost swarthy, pale olive skin with dark hazel eyes and darker brown hair, stocky to the point that she could top him when she wore heels. Not that any of their group was particularly bad looking, but Sage considered he and Leslie the picks of the bunch. She might have him on looks alone, but he had a charming smile and knew how to use it.

The four of them had begun a loose affiliation as apprentices that would only solidify as they found themselves making their way in the world as neophyte wizards. In an occult community that worked on significantly longer cycles than the average human, they were still the new kids on the block. And, they weren’t the only ones.

The Phoenixes—a name they’d chosen for themselves—were the first round of wizards that apprenticed under a clade of older wizards known as the Roses. The Roses were all surviving apprentices of Thomas Rose, a wizard who had rivaled Julius Blackman in power and fame until Blackman killed him in a fight over sixty years ago. The killing was ruled self defense by the Eastern Regional Wizarding Association, but ever since, the Blackmans and the Roses consistently were at odds. The feud seemed destined to spill over into the next generation. Wherever the Junior Blackmans turned, the Phoenixes were there too.

Sage relented, purposefully turning his attention away from the attractive scenery and giving Uriel the floor again. “So, what are they up to now that has you on edge, Uriel?”

“As I was saying, they’ve been up at Gallagher several times in the past two weeks, rummaging through the historic archives. I spoke to Marisa, and she says they’ve been pulling the stuff by Martin Fossi.”

Sage groaned. “Not this again… Uriel, we chased that goose ourselves. The Fossi Orb, if it ever existed, doesn’t have its location revealed in any of the manuscripts at the library.”

“Well, Marisa said she heard them talking about the Feinbeck Museum collections. Perhaps we missed something.”

“You mean _I_ missed something.” Sage bristled. He was the one who had spent his evenings for the better part of a month paging through books in an empty room.

Uriel raised his palms above the table edge in a placating gesture. “It may be nothing, but I think it would be wise for us to keep our ears open. Do any of you know anyone at the Feinbeck?”

“Yeah, I got someone,” Sam said around a mouthful of fries. “He works maintenance there. I’ll see what I can find out.”

They were interrupted as Mary Graves swung by their table. She looked the same today as Sage swore she had looked his entire life—graying brown hair pulled back into a french braid, black apron with her name embroidered in silver thread worn over black slacks and a polo shirt. Her warm blue eyes crinkled as she swept her smile over the group.

“Hey, you seen my new busser?” she asked.

“ _Have_ I…” Leslie muttered, making Sage smirk.

“Hey, Jack, come here for a minute!”

The dark-haired man came over, drying his hands on a dish towel. Up close, he was just as stunning. Maybe a bit of a roman nose, but it somehow fit, easily eclipsed by the dark eyes with barely a hint of warm brown in the irises set close in his pale face. He was tall, maybe taller than Uriel, and those arms and shoulders were as toned as Sage had thought they were from across the room. His eyes found Sage’s face as he fell in beside Mary, and he made an awkward bow, bobbing his head forward while keeping Sage’s gaze.

“Juniors, this is Jack Dawes. He’s fresh in this morning, and he’s from _overseas_ , so be nice.”

‘Overseas’ was Mary’s code for someone who wasn’t entirely human, whether that meant a human with a bit of fae in their bloodline or a full-blood werewolf. She introduced each of them to Jack in turn, and Jack’s eyes darted around to the four faces peering at him. Sage thought the other man’s gaze bounced back to him more often than not, so he turned on his best smile of interest, tilting his head slightly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Jack said. There was an awkward pause and his eyes turned to Mary. She gave him a slight nod, and he bobbed his head to them again before retreating back to the kitchen.

“He’s a bit shy at first, but I’m going to count on you four to help him feel welcome.” Mary gave them a pointed look.

“Don’t you usually make the apprentices do that?” Sam grumbled.

“Fresh out of apprentices! Besides, Jack’s more in your age group, in case you didn’t notice.” She raised eyebrows at Leslie and Sage before turning and getting back to work.

“Dibs,” Sage said to Leslie as soon as Mary was out of earshot. The guy might not be pure human, but Mary wasn’t shy about giving the two of them a stern warning if they needed to keep their hands off.

“That man clearly was making eyes at you; I cede the field.” She swept a magnanimous hand toward the kitchen.

The four of them finished up their lunches, sharing some bits of local gossip and catching up. Sage couldn’t help but be aware of Jack as he moved around the restaurant, and one final time before leaving, he managed to catch the other man’s eyes and give him a friendly smile. The smile wasn’t returned, but Sage thought he saw a bit of color flush Jack’s cheeks.

* * *

Highflyer stood with Fairbeak and his mother as the two yearlings foraged near their park. It was early in the morning; Mary always gave him the later shift at the café that would overlap Sage’s possible visits. It had taken until after the new moon for Highflyer to be a passable enough human to be introduced, and in the week since meeting his wizard face to face for the first time, Highflyer had realized he still was a long way from understanding the subtleties of human communication.

_“I tried bowing, but he said that I shouldn’t after the first few times. He seems uncomfortable when I step too close, and yet, he smiles and seems to invite my company… I do not understand it.”_

_“Humans do not court as crows do, perhaps,”_ Fairbeak observed with a gurgling rattle. _“It may be that he does not understand your intentions.”_

Dawnriser, their mother, cocked an eye toward her two older children in thought. _“Have you tried a gift, Highflyer?”_

_“A gift?”_

_“Even after all these years, your father still finds me a bit of pretzel every spring, just as he did our first year of courting. The old romantic!”_

Highflyer ruffled his feathers and reset his wings. Surely, a gift from one human to another had the same meaning as it did for crows?

* * *

Sage escaped from the office on his lunch break and slipped over to the Barrier Café. The place was set up to repel people outside the occult community, and he felt much better about reading magical texts there than he would in his cubicle. After tucking himself into a table against the back wall and ordering a coffee, Sage started his laptop and continued reviewing all the manuscript pages he’d snapped photos of during his first investigation into the Fossi Orb.

Martin Oberon Fossi had lived in the city since its founding and died over two centuries ago, and it was clearly documented in multiple sources that he had possessed a crystal orb that he used to open portals between worlds. Like many wizards, he made a business selling spell ingredients, but _his_ specialty was ingredients that were all but impossible to find on their world—troll worts, dragon scales, phoenix feathers… The types of things that could make you a killing in the market. He also auctioned off enchanted items, many of which were remarkable enough to end up in the Feinbeck eventually. But not the Fossi Orb. It was never found after the wizard’s death. Only a cryptic note in his will that made it clear it would be ‘one day be discovered by the right wizard’.

 _Wizards…_ Sage scoffed to himself. _They love being mysterious_.

Sage’s thoughts were interrupted some time later by someone approaching his table. He glanced up to see Jack carrying over a plate filled with fries.

“Hello.” Jack held out the plate to him. His expression was serious, dark eyes hopeful.

“Sorry, I didn’t order anything, Jack,” Sage said, giving him a gentle, bemused smile. He’d been trying to charm the busboy all week without much success. He was beginning to think the man never smiled, and only the fact that Jack kept gravitating toward him and making very interested eye contact gave Sage encouragement to continue. “Is Mary letting you wait on customers now?”

“Oh, no, I am not working right now. Today, I have split shift, and I am off until dinner. I thought you might be hungry, and Mary said you liked this.” He glanced down at the plate and then back to Sage’s face.

Sage immediately lost interest in what he had been doing and shut the laptop, turning up the wattage on his grin. “In that case, sit down and join me. We can share. I wasn’t getting much done anyway.”

Jack seemed to puzzle for a second over how to get seated with the sandwich, so Sage shoved the laptop against the wall and reached up for the plate, very purposely brushing a few fingers across the back of Jack’s as they made the transfer. Jack didn’t exactly smile, but something around his eyes softened into happiness as he took his seat across from Sage. He rested his bare forearms on the table, and before Sage could overthink it, he reached out and shifted the plate slightly so he could slide an arm onto the table and rest it to the inside of Jack’s. Even without touching, having their personal space intersect sent a pleasant twist through Sage’s stomach. Jack’s eyes flicked to his arm, but he didn’t withdraw. Sage smiled and leaned forward slightly.

“I… do not see you here for lunch, usually.” Jack ventured in that slightly stilted way he had of speaking.

Sage picked up a fry to nibble on. He usually didn’t bother with lunch, but he didn’t want to seem ungrateful for Jack’s offering. “I work most days, but I’m on lunch break.”

“From your work as a wizard?”

Sage laughed. “No. Wizarding doesn’t pay the bills quite yet… I work customer service at the home decor place down the street.”

Jack nodded in thought, then dropped his gaze to find a fry of his own. “I am often here for lunch when I work this shift. Sometimes, I walk down to the park.” He paused to enjoy a bite before continuing without meeting Sage’s gaze. “I saw you there, once, putting food for birds?”

“Yeah, I volunteer to maintain the little feeding area down near the edge of the grove.”

“Do you like birds?” Jack asked, meeting Sage’s eyes with a look that was oddly intense for light conversation.

“...My mom did.” Sage felt a bit of energy drain from his smile as his mind tried to bring up old memories, and he forced himself to concentrate on the warmth that radiated from Jack’s arm, think about how his skin would feel. “She loved the entire park, but she called the birds her ‘special friends’.”

“So you continue feeding them to honor her. That is good.” Jack’s expression was softer now.

“They seem to appreciate it, too. I think the crows even recognize me. They always make a racket when I walk by. Sometimes, I leave them peanuts on the park benches as a peace offering.”

“I n—” Jack stopped and seemed to stumble over a word, his cheeks going a bit pink. “I think crows are interesting.”

Sage smiled, letting it crinkle his eyes. Jack, with his raven black hair, umber eyes, and black t-shirt… Sage could imagine him as an emo or goth teenager. Or maybe he had been an athlete; he had the build for it. He wondered what inhuman qualities Jack was hiding. This close, Sage would have been able to pick up anything really obvious. Instead, there was just a faint glow of magic that suffused the man across from him. It felt… soft, white. Like silk and moonlight. Concentrating on Jack’s aura that intensely, it took Sage a moment to realize he had gotten them locked in a stare—and Jack didn’t seem inclined to break his gaze. The light tingle of connection that had been limited to his arm soon migrated to a full body fizz that dove south. Sage cleared his throat and was the first to look away, not wanting to have a very uncomfortable situation in the open café.

Reaching for another fry brought his watch into view. “Oh, shoot! I’m going to be late getting back to work…” Sage gave Jack an apologetic smile. He almost laid a flirtatious touch on the other man’s arm, but just the thought of doing so immediately made him flush warm. Maybe he’d better save that for when he wasn’t trying to rush out into public. “Thank you very much for the lunch, Jack. I’ll catch you another time.”

Jack inclined his head. “Good bye, Sage.”

Sage glanced back at the door to find Jack’s gaze still fixed on him. He was certain he wasn’t imagining the longing.

* * *

The wizard continued stopping by the restaurant nearly daily for lunch after that. It became routine for Highflyer to be invited to join him at a table, and as conversation flowed, the crow collected treasured tidbits about his human. Still, he was not certain how one went about moving from friendly companionship to love in Sage’s world, and the full Wolf Moon was upon them.

_“He accepts your gifts! Is that not enough?”_

Highflyer snapped his beak once and growled. _“I believe the one being courted is supposed to initiate physical contact when they have accepted their partner. I have been researching human courtship.”_ The research thus far had mainly involved observing couples at the café and watching the small television that the weekday cook Nancy kept running, but he felt he was beginning to grasp the give and take of human romance. “ _He came to the café quite often this week, and we share food if I am not working… I believe he is still inspecting me. I am surely not his only suitor.”_

_“Perhaps your plumage needs work!”_

Highflyer and Fairbeak’s heads snapped toward the unfamiliar voice in unison. A brilliant male cardinal sat on the edge of a nearby evergreen. Fairbeak flared in irritation.

 _“I could not help but overhear!”_ The cardinal chirped, flattening his scarlet feathers and raising his head nervously. _“Perhaps humans use their clothing to attract mates, like we do?”_ He flinched uncertainly at the siblings’ continued glares and flew off.

Highflyer thought of the various clothing the humans wore, including Sage’s own shirts, which were often shiny or colored, compared to the plain, black shirts and pants Mary had given him. _Plumage…_

* * *

By the time Sage wrapped up his last call of the day and got down to the lobby, Leslie was already waiting for him, a pair of tiny black leggings topped in a thick fuzzy coat and hat. He led the way to the café out of habit, and as they entered and found themselves a table, Mary came over to greet them with the specials.

“You going to move into my restaurant, Evans, or ask that man out on a date?” she asked, slapping the printed sheet down on the polished table.

Leslie snorted, giving Sage a teasing grin. She knew he considered himself aromantic and didn’t really do dating. Her eyes went wide at something over his shoulder and her mouth flattened into a line. He turned with a frown to see what had shocked her. It was Jack, but instead of his usual black, he was wearing a rainbow tie-dyed t-shirt with ‘New York’ printed on it in white.

“ _Mary_! What did you do to that poor man?!” Leslie hissed.

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Hey, he picked it out of the bin himself. Said he wanted to look ‘colorful’.”

“That shirt needs to be burned…” Leslie muttered, putting a hand to her mouth in dismay, but behind it, her lips quirked up as she tried to hold in a grin. “Sage, get it off him.”

“He’s off Tuesday and Wednesday…” Mary nagged.

They put in their orders and did the typical griping about their work weeks. They were mostly done with their meals before they slid into talking about the Fossi investigation, round two.

“So, Sam says someone who sounded like Bill Michaels was in the other day over at the Feinbeck,” Leslie told him. “Spent a while poking around some of the exhibits that had items auctioned by Fossi back in the day, asking if the museum had any more not on display… Nothing out of the ordinary. No special access or anything.”

Bill Michaels was one of the Phoenixes, older than any of the rest of them were. He always struck Sage as uptight and suspicious, although that might just be because Sage was part of the Blackman clade. Dangerously good with bindings and electricity; not someone to mess with, if you could help it.

Sage twirled his fork absentmindedly, tapping it back and forth on his napkin. “I’ve been going through scans since last week. I can’t see anything we missed. I keep thinking about Fossi’s will. If he hid the Orb somewhere, how did he expect the right person to discover it? There had to be clues… If they were in his house, that’s long been demolished, although his family tore the place apart after he died, looking for the Orb. He never took any apprentices. Hell, not many people left alive at this point that ever knew him… Anyway, I’ve started loading the scans to text with a reader, and I’m going to put it through some programs meant to crack ciphers. I don’t know what else to try.”

Leslie pursed her lips in thought. “What about drawings? Remember that guy Helmling who hid microscopic writing in some of his inkings?”

“Hmm, good point. I remember seeing some doodles and page decorations. I’ll go back and see if they are high enough resolution to zoom in.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the rainbow blur of Jack glide out to clean an abandoned table. He turned his head slightly to admire the man as he leaned over the table and caught Jack glancing over at the same time. As they locked eyes, Sage smiled at him, tilting his head invitingly. After a moment, Jack turned back to finish his work and carried the bin of dirties into the back. Sage enjoyed the view for another moment before turning back to find Leslie waiting with another teasing glare.

She arched an eyebrow. “You going to make a move, Sage, or just eye bang him for the next decade?”

Sage flipped his fork, smacking it on his napkin hard enough to bounce. “I just… I feel like there’s mixed signals. Whenever I come in, we sit together, we talk, he seems interested… But I’ve been giving him the ‘come hither’ act for almost two weeks now, and he’s not taking the bait. Like, not so much as a pat on the arm.”

Leslie snorted lightly. “So, what, is he hurting your pride? Maybe he just doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing… Or, dare I offend your delicate sensibilities by saying this, maybe he’s looking for more than a hookup, Sage. You know, the _other_ ‘D’ Word.”

Sage winced. He couldn’t even remember the last time a guy hadn’t taken him up on an offer, and yeah, maybe he was a bit annoyed that he hadn’t gotten the reaction he wanted right away. There was no way the guy hadn’t gotten the message. All the restraint, the questions about what he liked, what his life was like… Jack was trying to get a different form of connection than Sage had in mind.

The next time Jack came out to bus a table, Leslie kicked Sage in the shin under the table, and Sage narrowed his eyes at her before waving Jack over.

“Jack, are you off next Tuesday night?”

Across the table, Leslie chewed on her thumbnail and gave Jack’s shirt the side eye.

Jack nodded. “Yes, Mary says I cannot work two days of each week.”

“Do you want to come out with us?” Sage asked. “We’re going to a club a few blocks over, the Wand and Chalice.” After a beat, he quickly added, “It’s for occult folk.”

“I would be happy to come with you.” Jack stood up a bit straighter. “Is there special attire needed?”

“Just wear what you always do,” Sage said with a smile. “You’ll fit right in.”

“The _black_ ones.” Leslie hurried to clarify, eyes still on the abomination Mary had let Jack wear on shift.

Jack’s mouth twisted into a hesitant smile, and Sage couldn’t help but beam back at him.

After Jack had hustled back to work, Sage turned back to Leslie and motioned with a hand after the other man. “Happy?”

“You two are idiots,” Leslie told him. “Also, I can’t go with you. The spring line’s coming in next week, and I’m working overtime to get winter clearance done and the new displays up and running.”

Sage groaned. “Nooo, Leslie.”

“Say it with me,” Leslie coached. “It’s a date, but I can handle this.”

* * *

Highflyer couldn’t help but share his excitement with his sister the following morning, and she indulged him while searching for food around the park’s pond. _“Nancy has been extremely helpful. She says there will be many people and dancing but that I should not drink much of the alcohol and never allow my glass to be unwatched.”_

 _“My people are known for our dancing skill!”_ Proclaimed a nearby heron, flaring her wings and stretching her neck skyward for a moment. _“Surely that is the way for humans to attract a mate!”_

Highflyer glared at the intrusion. It seemed lately that the other birds were far too interested in crow business. _“Does the entire park know of my activities?”_ he groused to Fairbeak.

She leaned forward and bobbed her head in amusement, flipping up her wings. _“It’s the most excitement they’ve had in many seasons, brother. How could they not?”_

He sunk his head back to rest deep on his shoulders and puffed up his feathers, unhappy to be the subject of community gossip.

* * *

Tuesday night after work, Sage pulled on a printed t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans he hadn’t worn in years. Leslie had been winding him up about his ‘big date’ since he made it, but the nervous churning in his stomach dissipated into something warm and eager when he saw Jack through the front window of the café, where they’d agreed to meet up. The other man spotted Sage and stepped out before he reached the door, and the way Jack’s eyes locked onto him made Sage’s body give a little thrum of desire.

They walked the two blocks down to the club with little small talk. Jack seemed content to people watch, and his body language was confident, unhurried. Sage had been noticing that lately… little glimpses past the stilted awkwardness that had overshadowed their first interactions. The person underneath seemed warm, solid, and inviting, and that wasn’t just Sage’s animal instincts talking. Jack looked at him a bit curiously when he led them into the back door of an office building and stopped in front of a thick metal door marked ‘Storage Room 5’, but once Sage opened it, the other man walked right through the weak illusion magic on the other side without even blinking.

The Wand and Chalice was an occult supper club that occasionally moonlit as a dance club. The stairs opened up on the mezzanine, and Sage led Jack to the edge and let him take in the main floor below. Only a small area was cleared for dancing tonight in front of the stage on the far side of the room; round tables crowded the metallic black floor. Beyond its edges, cup-shaped booths lined the walls, and a full bar stretched out of sight down the right side of the room. Sage led the way along the left wall, seeing Jack take in the mural of stylized tarot cards opposite them as they descended the stairs. Someone had decided to pipe asian-themed techno over the speaker system tonight; putting that pre-show for a rock band pretty much summed up the club’s eclectic musical tastes.

Sage picked a table on the floor a comfortable distance from the stage, and he and Jack decided on a few appetizers before tapping them into the order kiosk on the table. For the first few minutes, Sage felt completely out of his element. He didn’t even know what people _did_ on dates. Jack started explaining the plot on some soap opera Nancy had shown him at work, and his dry analysis of the characters soon had Sage laughing out loud. The food provided a buffer, and Sage finally loosened up enough to start telling Jack about some of his ‘customers of the week’ at work.

It was almost time for the band to come on when Sage spotted Leslie standing over by the end of the bar. She waved him over, so he told Jack that he was going to get them a few drinks and crossed the room.

“Hey, I thought you were tied up at work,” he said, stepping in next to her. Leslie was wearing a shimmering green and red dress he remembered from last year and had herself made up for a night out.

“I decided to duck out a bit early.” She flicked her eyes over his outfit. “...What are you wearing?”

Sage gave her a self-deprecating smirk. “I didn’t want Jack to feel underdressed… Although given the band crowd tonight, maybe I shouldn’t have worried. Couldn’t resist checking up on us, huh?” He tilted his head back toward their table.

Leslie peered over at Jack, who was scanning the room and not looking their way at the moment. “No, I just wanted to see how it was going with the other thing. I heard you were at the library the other day.”

Sage nodded; he’d gone to rephotograph some of Fossi’s illustrations. “I didn’t find any hidden messages, but I did notice something interesting. The same symbol appears a lot, and I don’t recognize it.”

He pulled out his phone and showed Leslie an enlarged version of it. “Mean anything to you?”

She shook her head.

Glancing down the bar, Sage eye’s fell on Eiko Kelly, the club’s manager, surveying the crowd with a satisfied smile. Eiko was gorgeous and regal, diplomatic and shrewd, and she had a well-deserved reputation for knowing everyone occult in town. “Maybe I should ask Eiko while I’m here...”

When Eiko’s scan fell their way, Sage gave her a wide grin and waved. Eiko smiled and strutted over, confidence in a red and black pantsuit.

“Mr. Evans, staying out of trouble tonight?”

Sage ducked and tilted his head. “Doing my best... Can I pick your brain for a second?” He held the phone out toward Eiko. “Any idea what this could be?”

Eiko tilted her head and narrowed dark eyes before returning her gaze to Sage. “Hmm, sorry, I don’t recognize it.”

The kitsune was over three centuries old and knew more languages than Sage and Leslie could ever hope to learn between the two of them. If she didn’t recognize it, it was _very_ obscure.

“Okay, thanks for looking.” Sage smiled at her warmly.

“Hey, stop by later in the week,” Eiko told him. “I wanted to get your thoughts on something. ...And Evans …Keep an eye on your friends.” She gave Leslie a pointed look and glided back down the bar.

Leslie looked at Sage in confusion. “...Maybe she meant your new boytoy?”

“What, Jack?” Sage chuckled, turning back to the floor and finding Jack watching him calmly. “I need to get our drinks and get back out there before he thinks I’ve abandoned him.”

By the time he’d excused himself from Leslie and made his way back with drinks, they were turning down the house lights. Sage changed chairs, pulling one alongside Jack so they could both face the stage.

“Who was that?” Jack asked.

“Eiko Kelly. She runs this place.”

Jack looked bemused but nodded. He eyed his drink before trying an experimental sip, not quite managing to hide a grimace. Sage cringed internally; maybe he should have gotten Jack something without alcohol.

Once the show ramped up, Sage found himself increasingly distracted by the warm presence at his side in the darkened room. Jack laid his arm across the back of Sage’s chair, and Sage was hyper aware of the gentle brush of it across his shoulders. He leaned back into it and let the warmth seep down his spine, his stomach doing pleasant flips. The blare of the rock band was just background noise to his own heart beat, the movement of Jack’s chest as he breathed in and out. By a half hour in, Sage was having trouble thinking about anything besides sliding into Jack’s lap, fighting to control himself like a teenager.

 _Screw slow._ Giving in to the momentum, he leaned his lips close to Jack’s ear. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Jack turned to look at him, expression inquisitive. “I… am enjoying spending time with you. Do you wish to leave?”

Sage took in a slow breath and lowered his face, flicking eyes up to Jack’s. “I want to leave _with you_.”

It seemed to take a moment for Jack to decide, but from the way a faint blush set into his cheeks, it was apparent he was getting on the same page. “All right.”

Sage got them a taxi because he didn’t think he could stand the tedium of public transportation just then. It was the most tortuous taxi ride he’d ever had, trying to keep his hands off Jack, the intense look in those dark eyes making Sage burn with anticipation. When they finally got to his apartment, Sage all but threw himself at Jack for a first kiss. He felt the other man freeze and tense, and very nearly pulled back, but then Jack’s hands found Sage’s back and pulled him closer. As Jack allowed himself to be dragged toward the bedroom, Sage felt something buoyant bubble up in his chest over the raw lust, something like euphoria and relief.

* * *

The cold dawn revealed only a thin crescent of the Wolf Moon remaining, and Highflyer found himself staring at it. So much had changed in the past week, and despite Sage’s very demonstrative physical affections, he remained uncertain it would be enough to keep his human form. He and Nancy had some serious discussions about love and sex, and the difference between the two for humans. Human relationships typically took months that Highflyer didn’t have to reach declarations of love.

 _“I will make my feelings very clear to Sage tomorrow,”_ he told Fairbeak. By then, only the thinnest sliver of moon would remain, and he did not trust the magic to hold beyond that.

Fairbeak inclined her head toward him. _“Should you not make him aware of the stakes, brother?”_

 _“No, certainly not. If he does not feel love for me, he cannot force himself to. Either I will be able to return to him as a man, or that is the end of it.”_ Although Highflyer did feel a bit guilty about the possibility that he would disappear from Sage’s life without warning, he felt hopeful that, should the worst happen, Mary would make some explanation for him.

Fairbeak leaned against him in a gesture of quiet support.

He looked at the moon again, waning away, and prayed it would not take his happiness with it.

* * *

Sage was sitting in the Barrier right before close, waiting for Jack to wrap up. Leslie had come in late tonight and joined him, which was unexpected. Usually, he lost his best friend for a couple weeks during big seasonal clothing releases. There seemed to be something going on between her and Jack, an odd bit of tension in their interactions that didn’t go unnoticed by Sage.

“Hey, is everything okay? I know I’ve been busy with Jack this week, but you’ve been tied up at work, too…”

Leslie sighed. “No, everything’s fine. I’m just super tired. Long week! ...I also didn’t think of anything new on that symbol. Did you find out anything?”

Sage shook his head. “I put it through image searches and asked a few of the librarians who specialize in ancient languages… Nothing. I’m starting to wonder if Fossi made it up himself, like a signature. There are a few doodles of it in his journal, but most of the time, it appears in ink sketches of rocks or gravemarkers in his last grimoire.”

He leaned over to Leslie and flipped through a folder of cropped images on his phone. “See... I even checked to see if he had a burial marker, but he was burned on a funeral pyre and cast out to sea.”

“There’s one in the park, if that helps,” Jack’s voice chimed in.

Sage hadn’t noticed Jack’s approach, and he glanced up to find the other man studying his phone with head tilted. “What? Where?”

“In the woods, off the pathways.” Jack glanced up in thought. “I can take you there tomorrow, if you like.”

“What about now, after work?” Leslie asked.

Sage gave Leslie a questioning look, and she shrugged.

“Not like we can go digging around in the park in broad daylight…” she pointed out.

He turned back to Jack, who was watching him. “Well, that’s true... Do you think you can find it in the dark though?”

Jack inclined his head. “As long as we have enough light to see by.”

“All right, let’s at least check it out,” Sage decided.

When Jack had finished cleaning up and Mary was ready to close, the three of them walked to the park. It was different at night, and Sage adjusted his focus bracelet and moved the short wand he carried for casual use into an outer pocket. They followed one of the paths and were partway into the forest before Jack stopped and examined the trees.

“We’re going to have to go off the trail. Can you make light?”

Sage smirked and pulled out his mobile, activating the flashlight mode and stepping close to Jack’s side.

Jack nodded. “Step carefully…”

The taller man led them through the woods for several minutes, occasionally stopping and having Sage direct the light around at the nearby tree trunks before adjusting their path. Sage wondered just how much time he spent wandering around the park forest. Something about the image of the quiet, dark-haired man communing with the trees in his off time made fondness glow in Sage’s chest.

“Here, I think,” Jack said finally, grabbing Sage’s hand to swing around until he spotted a curve of sandy stone poking through the fallen leaves. Striding forward, Jack cleared the leaves, and the light from Sage’s phone clearly illuminated Fossi’s symbol burned into its surface.

Sage paused and took out his wand long enough to cast a diffuse orb of gentle light around them. After stowing his phone and wand back into his jacket pockets, he crouched and reached out to lay his hand on the rock, leaning in and concentrating on it. There was a faint smoke of magic around the symbol itself, but the rock just seemed to be a rock.

“I’m not getting anything off it… Maybe we should have brought a shovel. You know any spells to move earth, Leslie?”

Beside him, Jack went tense and looked over to Sage. “I thought you said his name was Eiko.”

It took Sage too long to realize what was going on. By the time he reached for his wand and spun to face the imposter, they already had their own wand out.

_“Offayo!”_

The spell never hit them. Jack grabbed Sage and bodily threw them backwards before Sage even had time to raise a protective spell.

Sage barely managed to sit up and block as the unknown illusionist threw another spell that sliced through the air like a blade. The shield Sage had hurriedly raised was destroyed by it, and before he was able to raise another, the other wizard had snapped out a binding spell. Sage’s jaw and arms locked, and he gripped his wand tight to keep it in hand so he could start to counter.

He felt Jack jam a hand into his pocket, and an instant later, Jack hurled Sage’s phone directly at their attacker’s face. They blocked it with a swipe of their hand but were unprepared when Jack’s tall, muscular frame rammed them at full speed after it. There was a scuffle, and Sage desperately tried to channel enough energy to break the binding. It was not a very complex one, but without words or motion, it was going to take concentration. He heard Jack cry out in pain and the person he had pinned scrambled out from under him. The Leslie illusion was gone, and as the man turned around, Sage recognized Derrick Batradhame, one of the Phoenixes. Jack groaned and didn’t get up.

Sage tore at the binding magic with his own, trying to free up his wand hand, as Batradhame searched the ground; the other wizard must have dropped his wand when Jack hit him. His adversary fixed on a point and stepped forward just as Sage was starting to get a bit of motion in his wrist.

As Betradhame bent down, caws exploded from above, and the black shapes of several crows dove at him. He flailed at them, but the birds persisted, flapping close and pecking at his head. Finally, Betradhame spun and ran into the dark, trying to shake them off.

Sage concentrated with all his might at twisting his wand in a cutting motion. _SeparLibertad!_ He felt the magic snap and fall away and gasped for breath before casting a barrier that extended around himself, Jack, and the stone. Then he stumbled down to Jack’s side. “Jack!”

The other man’s face was pale and wet with tears. Glancing down, Sage saw Jack’s hands, clutched to his stomach, were covered in blood.

“I love you,” Jack gasped out, gritting his teeth in pain.

Sage saw him shivering. There was too much blood. Jack was very badly injured, and Sage couldn’t _think_ . _Leslie._ He raised a shaking hand and had to struggle to gather enough magic to send an emergency summons with his bracelet. “ _AyudaUrgen!”_

He cast his gaze around desperately for his phone. Leslie would take too long, and Jack didn’t have much time. When he glanced up to check Jack’s face, he was shocked to see black feathers creeping in along his temples and cheeks. His hair had also changed.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Sage stammered, reaching out to brush fingertips over his head. Above them, he heard fluttering and the croaking calls of the crows.

“My family…” Jack choked out, glancing skyward. His eyes found Sage’s. Then, they fluttered and rolled back as he lost consciousness.

Sage reached out to him. “Jack! JACK!”

The black feathers spread, soon covering Jack’s face, and his entire body began sliding and reforming. With a flare of magic that shone white and cold, Jack’s form shrank and collapsed until only a small lump remained, encased inside his puffy jacket.

With shaking hands, Sage struggled to unzip the jacket and push inside the shirt, feeling sick as his fingers encountered wet blood and feathers. Carefully, he pulled out the body of a black crow.

It never stirred again.

* * *

Leslie came with Sage the next day when he returned to the park with Jack’s body. His memories of the night before were blurry, but he remembered clutching the bird to his chest and all but screaming when she suggested he put it down. As they made their way through the park, several crows cried out in the distance. A small flock had gathered by the time they reached the edge of the woods, circling overhead and tracking their progress.

“I put a marker down,” Leslie explained as she took out her phone and navigated their way through the brush.

It looked more barren in daylight, but Sage could tell when they reached the spot. There was an area of disturbed earth, and Fossi’s marker sat slightly askew.

He turned to Leslie. “Did you do that?”

Leslie shook her head. “Uriel and Sam. They found something, a box. Uriel’s got it hidden away for now; you can take a look at it when you’re feeling up to it.”

Sage couldn’t even feel interested. Above them, a crow burst out in harsh caws, and he looked up to find at least a dozen of them perched in the trees. He remembered Jack’s last words. _My family…_

Sage didn’t even bother to swipe away the tears that welled up. His eyes were sore, and he’d given up on being presentable. He considered the area around the stone. Somehow the idea of a rock over Jack’s body made his chest go tight. Instead, he wandered a few steps away, where there were a few trees that looked as though they would have leaves in spring.

“Can you…?” He motioned to the ground and looked at Leslie.

She pulled out her utility wand, a rutilated quartz crystal wrapped in copper, and bowed in concentration for a few moments. Slowly, the earth began to shift, surging up into a ring that spilled outward as a deep crater formed. When it was a few feet deep, she turned to look at Sage, expression sympathetic.

It took Sage a few breaths before he could lower the wrapped up bundle into the hole. After Leslie had shifted the dirt back, he leaned down and patted down the pile by hand, leaving it hatched with finger marks.

Standing again, Sage stared up into the trees where the crows sat, watching them. He wondered if they could understand him; he had no idea what to say to them, even if they could. He suddenly thought of his mother’s funeral, mourners all dressed in black and crowding around while Leslie clutched his arm. They had wanted him to speak, and he couldn’t then either.

Leslie stepped closer and put an arm around his shoulders as a new batch of tears rolled down his cheeks.

* * *

Two days later, he found out that Batradhame couldn’t be tried for Jack’s death because Jack had been a crow.

“What?! So he just gets away with it?!” Sage cried.  
Next to him, Leslie’s face crumpled in disbelief.

His old master, Robert James, bowed his head, frowning. He’d been the one to help Sage report the crime to the city’s Association advisor, and he called Sage and Leslie to his apartment to give them the news.

“I’m sorry, Sage, but they won’t take it on. If they started persecuting every wizard who ever killed an animal, all hell would break loose.”

Sage clenched teeth and felt his hands curl into fists.

“Now, if we wanted to take the route of claiming him as pro—”

“He wasn’t a goddamn animal!” Sage roared.

Leslie let out a shriek as a vase shattered on Robert’s bookshelf. There were several cracks in quick succession, ending with a nearby lamp exploding in a shower of sparks.

“Sage!” Robert warned, his hand going to the bracelet on his wrist.

Sage bent over and fought for air as he tried to fight down the energy that was threatening to lash out at everything around him. He felt himself start to sweat and smelled the burn of ozone.

“Hey, look at me.” Leslie grabbed his shoulders and stood directly in front of him. “Look at me.”

Sage shook his head and tried to push her off, but she slapped her hands right back onto him.

“ _Look_ at me.”

Sage finally looked up from the ground and found Leslie’s face. She took exaggerated breaths in and out, and Sage tried to follow them, keeping his eyes on hers. Eventually, the hot anger burning through his veins subsided, and the eruption of magic faded with it. Leslie’s face softened in relief, and she gave his shoulders a quick rub before stepping back.

Sage saw both sadness and unease on Robert’s broad face, and the older man put his hands into the pockets of his tweed pants before continuing.

“You’re not stable right now, and who could blame you… but please, take whatever time you need away from work and from magic and let yourself grieve. They have you under a tracking spell. You are not to go near Derrick Batradhame.”

Sage nodded, not quite making eye contact. “Sorry about the lamp… And the vase…” His eyes scanned the room, landing on scattered chunks of black stone by the end table. “And whatever that was.”

Robert raised his eyebrows at the mess. “You’re a lot stronger now than you used to be. Unfortunately, that also means you have to keep your head. Go home, get some rest, and make your peace with it.”

Sage swallowed and strode from the room, too hurt to help Robert clean up the mess.

* * *

He’d been holed up in his apartment for three days, calling in sick to work and dodging calls from his father, his grandmother, and Uriel, when Leslie banged on his door, demanding he let her in. He stared at it, then looked down at the t-shirt and boxers he was two days into. He hadn’t showered since… too long. Sage decided to pretend he was asleep. He looked around for his phone and finally found it on the floor nearby. Three unread messages from Leslie were waiting for him, sent at various times that day.

 _Shit..._

Leslie stopped knocking, and he didn’t hear her in the hall. Sage sighed and wondered how long he should wait to text her back, going with the story that he had been asleep. Very deeply asleep. He was staring at the ceiling and thinking about trying to eat something when he heard keys jingling in the hall. His head snapped up when the handle on his door rattled, and before he could even get up, the door opened. It banged to a stop when it hit the end of the chain, and there was murmuring.

“Sage!” Leslie’s voice called from the hall. “Yell if you need help!”

“I have some bolt cutters.” It was the voice of Sage’s building manager, Henry.

Sage stumbled up from the couch and hurried to the door before he ended up with an extra replacement charge on his next month’s rent.

“I’m fine! I was asleep!” He got the door open and swung it open.

Henry stood on the other side, scowling, tired eyes glowering behind thick wrinkles. “He lives.”

“Christ, Sage, I thought you were dead!” Leslie scolded. “Thank you, Mr. Bernardo. So sorry to trouble you.”

She pushed her way inside and gave Henry a last, overly grateful nod before closing the door. Once she had pulled Sage away from it, she fixed him with a glare.

“I knew you weren’t dead, you asshole. I saw you read my texts.” She waved her phone at him.

Sage sighed. “Not really in shape for visitors…”

She glanced over him. “No kidding… Come on, you got something I can cook?”

Leslie’s cooking skills were about as good as his own, so after she heated up a can of soup and pushed it at him, she tapped in a delivery order on her phone. She waited until he had some food in him before prodding.

“So… Talk to me.”

“About wh—”

“Don’t you dare.” Leslie gave him her ‘ _try me, bitch_ ’ face.

Sage exhaled and started flipping his spoon back and forth, twirling it over the backs of his fingers. “I don’t know. I just can’t get out of this loop, you know?” He tried to gather up his thoughts. “Like, I should have _known_ that wasn’t you, I should have been able to _do_ something. I just… I was so damn _useless_.”

He felt his eyes start to burn again and blinked, taking in a breath and fighting to keep steady.

“Sage.” Leslie reached over and put her hand by his bowl.

The concern and sympathy focused on him just made Sage feel terrible all over again, and when he tried to continue, his voice broke. “H-he said he loved me,” he sobbed, “a-and I didn’t say anything.” Sage let the spoon drop to the table and lowered his head onto his hands. “H-he was dying, and I couldn’t— What’s _wrong_ with me?”

“Nothing at all,” Leslie whispered, waiting until he quieted before continuing. “He said it because he wanted you to know that you were loved. Not because he needed you to say it back.”

Sage just shook his head. Leslie didn’t have to live with the sadness and regret that had been in Jack’s eyes that night.

“Hey,” Leslie prodded, drawing his eyes back to her. “This isn’t your fault. Sometimes, bad shit just happens.”

“No,” Sage sniffed, a ball of anger forming under his rib cage. “I know who caused this shit… And my only comfort is that that morally-bankrupt piece of trash is never going to change his spots. Eventually, he’s going to do something that’ll get him killed or bring the Association down on his ass.”

“Damn straight.” Leslie rapped the table. “And until then, he’ll still be a miserable human being, with no friends. Unlike you, Sage Evans, who has the absolute best friend in the entire world.”

Sage laughed weakly. “Never underestimate Leslie Adam’s dedication to friendship—or her ability to steamroll crabby old men.”

“And young ones, too,” she added with a smile.

* * *

Two weeks after the night in the park, Sage sighed and rolled himself off the couch, trying to at least get vertical before noon. He’d exhausted his vacation and sick time at work, and his manager’s patience, so he’d have to find some way to be acceptably functional by next Monday. Remembering to eat regularly was probably a good start. He made his way to the kitchen, soldiering through the lightheadedness and rummaging through his fridge for some ingredients to make a sandwich. As he turned back from getting a knife out the drawer, he caught a dark shape out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, Sage froze; Jack was standing in the kitchen, on the other side of the island. There was no sound except the rushing of blood in Sage’s ears.

“Hello, Sage,” Jack said. He looked exactly as Sage remembered him, dressed in that same black t-shirt and pants Mary had him wear at the Barrier, eyes that were nearly black gazing at Sage with steady warmth.

Sage set down the knife and turned to the counter by the stove, where he found the shaker of salt and unsteadily shook a pile of it into one palm. Assuming he wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, this could only be Jack’s ghost. He’d have to ask his grandmother to help him do a proper ritual later, but right now, he just needed it to leave. He couldn’t take this, not now.

Turning back to the ghost, Sage swallowed and tried to steel himself. “I loved you, and I’m sorry you died, but you don’t belong here now. Move on and find your final rest. I release you!” He hurled the salt at the apparition.

The ghost didn’t dissipate. It winced as granules of table salt bounced off its skin and stuck to its shirt, then looked at Sage in devastation. “I-I can’t leave,” it protested, appearing to blink back tears. “I came back to be by your side. As your familiar.”

Sage forgot how to breathe for a moment. He cautiously rounded the island and reached out to lay a palm on its chest. It was solid, warm. Ghosts didn’t feel like that. Something flickered in the hole that had been sitting in Sage’s chest.

Jack swallowed, still holding Sage’s gaze. “I’m yours… And it doesn’t matter if you love me or not, I—”

Sage didn’t let him finish. He lurched forward and grabbed Jack’s head, tilting his own face up and pulling the taller man down into a kiss. It was clumsy and a bit snotty—mostly Sage’s fault—but there was a rush underneath. Sage felt some of his energy flow into Jack and loop back, building in a wave that had his ears ringing.

He broke the kiss, breathing hard. “Well, that’s different…” he panted.

“...Is it bad?” Jack asked quietly.

Sage leaned back so he could meet his eyes. “No. ...It’s good. _You’re_ good. And I want you to stay.”

Jack’s eyes filled with relief, and Sage felt the tension leave his shoulders. “All right.”

* * *

Jack sat next to Sage in a booth at the Wand and Chalice with the wizards Sage considered his flock. They had accepted Jack into their mix without much difficulty after Leslie and Sage’s old masters had performed several tests to make certain Jack was really a familiar and not some sort of demon or trickster. Jack was still getting used to Uriel and Sam.

“All right, everyone, get your drinks handy,” Uriel said, grabbing his own glass and lifting it. “I want to propose a toast.”

Jack followed the others’ example and picked up his drink, curious.

Uriel nodded at Sage and lifted his glass slightly higher. “To Sage Evans, first of our group to draw a familiar.”

Sage smiled, but it was also a wince. He turned his head away and shook it slightly.

“May he not be the last,” Sam added.

Leslie nodded deeply. “Here, here!”

“ _And_ ,” Uriel continued, looking around at the others, “lead investigator in our newest venture. To his success, and ours.”

There were enthusiastic utterings of ‘cheers’ as they all began touching the sides of their glasses. The goal seemed to be to tap every other person’s glass once, including Jack’s, so he tried to participate, waiting until last to gently knock his against Sage’s. “Cheers.”

Sage raised his glass back to the others before taking a drink from it, his smile growing more relaxed once the toast was over.

Jack knew the ‘venture’ Uriel referred to was the orb they had unearthed in the park. It had taken Sage several days of examination and disarming spells before he could work the lid off the stone box. Inside, wrapped in a thick layer of linen, was a polished ball of crystal, just small enough to be cupped in one palm. It was mostly transparent, with a single, faceted inclusion running through the center inside, like a fissure. So far, Sage was still puzzling over it, but if it was truly Fossi’s Orb, he said it could open paths to other worlds.

Beside him, Sage cleared his throat and put down his glass. “Well, enough of that. Come on, Jack. It’s time you learned to dance.” He nudged Jack’s knee with his and motioned with his head for Jack to get out of the booth. Turning back, he added, “Leslie, help me out here…”

Once the three had unfolded themselves from the table, Jack let Sage pull him along, content to follow as the two young wizards led him toward the dance floor. He was certain this first attempt would be a failure... but he had time to learn.


End file.
